The Walls Have Ears, and So Do the Fire Escapes
by GeistGuru
Summary: The role of the information broker is not as passive as most like to believe. At times, they find themselves and what they know instigating new events, be it on purpose or not. An information broker has their hand in any situation they come to report, and one aspiring broker will learn this the hard way. Adventures of an Original Character. Potential violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story is based solely off of the anime, so please bear with me on this one. Also, a fair warning that there is an OC lurking in this particular fic. I hope you all enjoy.

* * *

_Entry no. 173_

_1931 January ?_

_11:30 am?_

_Location: Home_

_Calender still missing. Not sure if watch is accurate. Saw that small group of men again today. Mention of "taking care" of something at 7 tonight. Sounds like no good. Not sure where or what. Also saw some mafia men pass by today. Must be the Gandors. Been around a lot lately._

_Note: Must get new pen soon. Must drop by Daily Days to see if info of any use._

The small journal then closed and was tucked away in the young woman's pant pocket. Her name was Joanna Jones, and she was commonly referred as being a wannabe information broker. In truth, she found it more as a hobby than a career choice. For in living in a fire escape in a well traveled alleyway, she had seen and heard many things that were probably not meant to be recorded and sold to the Daily Days.

It was funny, really. Everyone hated information brokers for the things they knew, and loved them when they shared such information.

Just as Joanna was about to get up from the cold metal steps of the fire escape, she heard some sort of activity down below her. Almost reflexively, she got out her journal once more and was ready to write.

"I don't know who those guys think they are, but they won't get away with it." A male voice spoke from down bellow.

"That's for damn sure," Spoke another, "When I get my hands on them..."

Upon looking down, she could clearly see it was the Gandor brothers along with a few of their men. They had stopped right bellow her fire escape. This had to be her lucky day.

"Just calm down Berga. You've got to catch one of 'em first before you can do any of that." If she remembered correctly, this one had to be Luck.

"Now, you said they shot up one of the-"

All talking stopped as the mafia men looked down at a pen and journal dropped on the ground. Then they all looked up to see the woman with her hands covered over her mouth in horror. Her reaction to being discovered was probably to exaggerated, but her perception on the future was skewed, making such a reaction reasonable. After all, no average person would want to be involved in the mafia, and she didn't want to have anything to do with them.

Such an expression was a red flag to Luck that something was up with this girl, and so he quietly picked up the journal and pen and skimmed over one of the pages for a moment.

_Entry no. 168_

_1931 January 7?_

_8:46 pm_

_Location: Home_

_Casino across the street just robbed. Looks like same men from earlier (see entry no. 163). Place shot up. People dead and injured. Had to sneak into neighbor's apartment to call police. Should be here soon. Some money stashed behind loose brick. Will get later. _

_Note: Calender missing. Never really recorded dates anyway. Still good to know when telling Daily Days, though. Ask if they sell calenders._

"H-hey! Give that back!" Joanna reached down from the lowest level of the fire escape, and was just a foot or so short of at least being able to touch the man bellow. She figured that she was already in a world of trouble, and that most anything she could do couldn't change that.

"I don't think so, dollface." Luck said, taking a step back from the grabby hand. "You're with the Daily Days, am I right?"

Joanna huffed with frustration, and momentarily ceased her useless struggling. "Hardly. It's none of your business anyway."

"It is my business, actually. It says here in this book of yours that you've seen one of my casinos get robbed. Your entries are pretty vague, perhaps you'd like to tell me what you know?" He asked. His brothers and subordinates looked on, almost seeming as though they were on the ready in case the girl tried something.

"I won't tell you anything until you give me back my book, and the pen too!" It was hard for her to be demanding with that look of terror still in her eyes. She was in fact rather shocked that she could generate such courage in a situation like this. The flight response seemed the most likely for her to take in a situation such as this.

Luck managed a small smile. This girl probably didn't know who she was dealing with, or at least who was in charge of the situation here. None the less, giving up the journal and pen would be relatively harmless. He now knew the girl's face and that she was connected with the Daily Days. If he ever had to find her, he at least had an idea of where to look first.

He brought up the journal and pen to hand to her, but once within reach, she had snatched them up and was on her way up the steps.

"Hey, get back here!" Berga called out. He reached up and pulled down the latter, and so beginning the chase.

The more agile Luck went up first, followed by Keith, a few others, and then Berga in the rear. The metal creaked and groaned as rushed steps made their way up to the top floor. The path way was more or less clear, but along the balcony like ends were things like tables and trunks to slow them down some. It was like someone was actually living here. Before long, they were all up on the roof, but the girl was gone and without a trace.

_Entry no.174_

_1931 January?_

_10:56 am?_

_Location: 8th and Finch Street_

_Got chased by Gandors. Dropped book and pen while they were talking. Got book and pen back. Can't go home. They know. Can't go to Daily Days. They know. Should be on the down low. Watch back and pray for best._

_Note: Prevent sweaty palms to prevent this mistake. Get handkerchief soon. Fix watch. Get calender._

* * *

**A/N:** First Fic I ever published. I hope you all enjoyed it, and please review. I'd like to become better at writing these things. Also, I may or may not continue this story.


	2. Chapter 2

_Entry no.175_

_1931 January 10th_

_9:16 am?_

_Location: Fire Escape in alley by Willow Street_

_Not caught yet. Hungry. Have no money to eat. Too scared to go back Home. Asked date from a man I passed earlier. (No need for a calender today) Will go out soon. Try to scavenge for hidden money. Avoid suspicious people at all costs. Found dirty rag on floor. May be able to solve sweaty hand problem. Gloves may be better._

_Note: Get gloves. Avoid mafia. Fix watch. Get calender._

It had been a day since Joanna's run in with the Gandors, and she had spent the rest of that day and night in this fire escape. Why? It was the homiest sort of place for her, and mostly out of reach from anyone in the alley down below. She was about on the second level, and so if anyone were to try and get up to her she'd at least have a bit of a head start. If someone were to try to get to her through a window, then she really didn't have much of a chance.

Joanna's stomach growled, reminding her of her hunger as she put away the pen and journal.

"I guess I should get down from here..." She mumbled to herself as she stood from the steps.

"Yeah, Jones. I think that'd be a swell idea!"

Jumping a bit of surprise, Joanna looked down to a familiar face. It was Nicholas, one of the high up information brokers of the Daily Days. He was as snarky as ever. She expected no less of him.

"Word is that the Gandor Mafia's after you." He said as he watched her descend the fire escape.

"Yeah, that's right." She said with a bit of a sigh. "I really screwed up."

"I know you're an amateur, Jones, but it's really not as bad as it seems."

Joanna perked a brow with more doubt than interest.

"I mean, you have something that they want. And they're personally looking for _you _to give it to 'em. It's situations like this where you can up the prices and bring in more bones, am I right? Maybe enough to get a decent place so you don't have to be living like a fire escape gypsy all the time!"

"I guess so, but the difference between you and me is that I don't hide behind a counter and have a bunch of armed men to back me up if a deal goes haywire." She said with a bit of a frown, "I've got a mafia after me, Nicholas. You know what the mafia does to people that don't cooperate right? I think this is going to be the end of the line for me. I'm going to disappear without anyone ever knowing what happened-"

"Hey! Hey now, calm down, Jones. I think you're over reacting a little bit there." Nicholas awkwardly brushed a hand through his hair. "How about this, I'll drive you up to the Daily Days so then nothin' can happen to you. If they come in asking for you, then you'd be protected be me in the others, alright?"

"You'd really do that for me?" It almost seemed too good to be true.

"Oh yeah! And just so you know, I think the Director's got his eye on you. If you play your cards right, you just might make a living out of this."

"Wow..." If this was the case, it'd be like a dream come true.

Then once again, her stomach interrupted her thoughts.

"Could we get a bite to eat first? I'll pay you back."

"No worries," He said, "It's on me."

_Entry no.176_

_1931 January 10th_

_10:36 am?_

_Location: Nicholas' car on 8th Street_

_Had coffee and a sandwich with Nicholas. Coffee is so good. First time having it. Should get more sometime. On the way to Daily Days. Nicholas says he's taking a short cut. Doesn't seem like shortcut. Nowhere near Daily Days. Nicholas lied. Doors locked. Worried beyond belief._

_Note: Don't trust Nicholas! Also, priorities from Entry no.175 Avoid mafia seems least likely, now._

To think, that someone she trusted just ratted her out like that. She knew there was something a little devious about Nicholas, and now she really got to see his true colors. Just watching the exchange of cash between Luck and him made her sick. The thing that really got her was that the exchange of money was enough to pay a year's rent in a decent apartment.

With the great depression in full swing, people would do anything for some spare change. People would kill for that kind of money. Even so, Joanna was having a hard time trying to sympathize with Nicholas in that respect. She really didn't want to anyway, for she had bigger things to worry about.

So there she was, sitting with the mafia men she had come to fear. Berga, Keith, and Luck Gandor all looking at her from across the rounded poker table. The room was slightly fogged with smoke of Keith's cigar, and the only thing that kept from total silence was his light shuffling of a deck of cards along with the anxious clicking of Joanna's boot heel.

Joanna did her best not to seem terrified, but it seemed the more she tried the more terrified she started to look. It felt as though their gazes were prying at her, and they could all tell what she was feeling. Maybe, even what she was thinking. Her palms were getting sweaty again, but she dare not reach in her pocket for the rag she acquired earlier. She didn't even so much as wipe her hands on her pant legs.

Finally, someone spoke.

It was Luck.

"You're looking pretty anxious there, dollface."

She looked over to him, and mustered the courage to speak. "My name is Joanna." Her voice faltered toward the end.

"That's a pretty nice name there, Joanna."

She said nothing, and looked on with a weary gaze. The fact that the man was just smiling about it all was getting to her. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but it didn't make things any better on her end.

"Okay then. Well as you must know, I'm Luck and these are my brothers Keith and Berga." He said, motioning to each respectively.

"Y-yeah. I know that."

"You also must know why you're here." His tone grew significantly more serious.

Again, Joanna said nothing. Her eyes widened a bit in response.

"I was reading that little book of yours yesterday, and apparently you know about those boys who shot up my casino. There's gotta be more to it then just a few lines, Joanna. So speak up now. I don't want to hurt you."

"If I tell you what I know, will you let me go?"

Luck paused for a moment, his smile fading as he answered. "It's a possibility."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? She furrowed her brows as she mulled it over. Did that mean that she had a fifty-fifty chance, or was that a light way of saying no? Now that she thought about it, she really wouldn't let something go so easily if it put a dent in her wallet. These were hard times.

With a heavy sigh, she replied. "Okay." She got out her journal and skimmed through a few pages as she spoke.

"There was a group of men, about six of them, lurking around my alleyway starting last week. They were talking up some big game, saying that they were going to make it big. They never said how or why. They got out of my range by then. One of the men, he was a taller, dark haired guy. He had green eyes. I think his name was Harvey, or something like that. The names I heard tossed around in their gang were, Fred, George, and Oliver. It could be their names, or maybe friends or family. I don't know."

"Go on."

"When your casino got shot up, I saw those same guys run off. They hid some money away behind one of the loose bricks in the alley walls. After I called the police, I went down and took the money-"

"Where is it? How much of it was there?" It was Berga asking the questions now, and he wasn't as calm as Luck was.

"I hid it some place else," Joanna stammered uneasily. "There was fifty dollars in ones. I spent about two dollars of it on food..."

"Where-"

"Enough." Luck said with an exasperated sigh.

Berga backed down, and just narrowed his eyes at his younger brother without saying a word.

Luck's attention turned back to Joanna. "Is there anything else?"

"Well... They said that they were going to do something at seven yesterday night. I don't know what it is, err, was."

This news cause Luck to frown, "The robbing of our collectors..." He muttered under his breath.

"That's all I know." She said quickly, "C-could I please go now?"

She was met with silence. It seemed as though she had to wait for Luck to finish thinking first.

After what seemed to be eternal silence, the verdict was then made.

"No." He said with finality. "You may be of use to me."


	3. Chapter 3

_Entry no.177_

_1931 January 11th_

_1:17 pm?_

_Location: Gandor Hideout_

_Stuck with the mafia until further notice. They gave me a room to stay in. I tried to escape out the window. I got caught before I could even make it past the block. Now stuck in room with crazy scissor guy. He says Luck told him not to hurt me. I caught him trying to cut my hair a few times._

_At least he has a calender._

_Note: Don't turn back on scissor guy. Look both ways before escaping out window._

"I know I'm not supposed to hurt yah Miss Jones, but at least let me take a snip of your hair. It doesn't hurt." The blond hummed as he polished one of the many scissors laid out on the blood stained table.

Joanna sat across from him. She was tucked in the corner facing him, her arms wrapped around her legs as she watched him in silence. She was really in no mood to talk with this man, and was far too busy contemplating a second escape.

"Brunettes might be common, but your wavy hair... I'm sure it'll cut real nice. I've been wanting to show you for a while now, but I guess that won't be happening. What a shame." He said with a soft sigh. He snipped the scissors a few times, as if marveling at the terrifying grace he brought to wielding it.

There was then a knock at the door.

"Ah, I wonder who it could be?" He walked over and opened up the door.

"Hey, Tick! It's been so long, ah? I see you've still got those scissors of yours. Is that a new pair?"

The voice was unfamiliar to Joanna, and curiosity got the best of her as she leaned forward a bit to take a peek at who Tick was talking to. The two went on jabbering for a while, and Joanna was too timid to actually stand up and have a look. Tick was blocking her view, and she could only catch a glimpse of red hair. The door opened just a little bit more so she could see the mystery man's face, and much to her surprise, he looked right at her as she finally did. She flinched, and sulked in the corner a little.

"I didn't know you were busy!" The man said, turning his attention back to Tick.

"Oh no no. Sadly, I'm not. I just have to make sure she doesn't try to get out again. You know how people get sometimes." Tick said casually.

"Is that right?" The other said thoughtfully, "She wouldn't happen to be the broker Luck bought a while ago, would she?"

"The very one."

"Wow! I was actually just looking for her."

They had Joanna's full attention now. She could no longer pretend to ignore this conversation. The disappointing thing was that she thought she'd get more dirt on the Gandors from being here, yet all the talk was about some guys causing trouble. And of course, the pesky broker escapist, which was herself.

"Well come in then!" Tick opened the door fully and let the other man step inside. Then, he turned to Joanna, "Say hello to Claire, Miss Jones."

"No," The man interrupted with a slight waive of his hand, "I've been thinking of ditching that name for a better one. Vino will be fine for now."

The man now known to her as Vino walked over and knelt down in front of her, "Let's go for a walk then, shall we?"

_Entry no. 178_

_1931 January 11th_

_1:26 pm?_

_Location: Walking outside (various streets in Gandor territory)_

_Going out for a walk with Vino. Finally away from that Tick guy. Can't write much. Vino keeps trying to peek at book. Yes, you are reading what I'm writing. Haha_

_Note: What did I do to deserve this? Don't answer that._

"Jeez, one would think you'd stop writing in that book of yours by now!" Vino said with a slight frown, watching as Joanna tucked the small book and pen in her pocket.

"What makes you think that?" She asked rather defensively.

"It is what got you into this mess in the first place, right?"

There was really no arguing with that point, and so Joanna simply averted her gaze.

"Exactly! And from what I understand, you want nothing to do with all this. So I think," He walked a bit ahead and looked back at her, "You should quit while you're still ahead. Just in case this sort of thing happens again, y'know?"

"It really isn't that simple." She said with a bit of a frown. Her hands were stuffed in her pockets now, and she was mostly looking at the ground.

"Not that simple?" Vino mused, "It really couldn't be any simpler! And look up, you're here to look for those guys, remember? Not to study the cracks in the sidewalk."

"Okay," Joanna resumed her lookout as she walked, "I guess what I meant to say was that you don't understand."

"Then make me understand."

She gave him a look of incredulity for a few moments before shaking her head. "I really don't want to get into that."

"Aww come on! We've got time. Besides, I'm curious to know more about you. It isn't often that my brother has to rely on one source to get things done around here."

"Brother...?" Joanna furrowed her brows. This guy was related to the Gandors?

"Adopted, technically. But that isn't the point here."

"Right." She said with a bit of a frown.

"So come on then, tell me about yourself!"

"I will," Joanna started, "But you have to tell me about yourself first."

"Fair enough, fair enough. I expected no less from an information broker such as yourself! Now, where to begin?" He paused for a moment, tapping his index finger on his bottom lip in thought before continuing, "I was born Claire Stanfield, and I was adopted into the Gandors when I was very young. I was lookin' for a change of scenery, so I ran off and joined the circus as an acrobat. Then I later became a conductor. Oh, and did I mention all that time I was an assassin? I still am, but it's something worth mentioning. For a while I was also known as the Rail Tracer, believe it or not."

It was a lot to take in whilst resisting the urge to get out the journal. Joanna had a bit of trouble on the assassin part. Vino didn't seem to fit the picture of a hardened and skilled assassin. Or at least, what she had in mind for what they were like. Then the whole bit about the Rail Tracer? She wasn't sue if one person could inspire an urban legend such as that.

"But enough about me. I want to hear about you!"

Joanna too, had to take a moment of thought before starting on her life story. "Well, I was born Joanna Jackalyn Jones." She laughed a bit to herself, "My father had a weird thing for silly initials. But uhm, I don't think I have anything interesting about myself worth mentioning..."

"Aww come on JJ! Don't be like that."

She gave Vino a rather disconcerting look in response to the nickname. "Joanna. Just call me Joanna."

"Ah, same thing! Just get on with it. You've got to have at least _one_ interesting thing to say about yourself."

"I don't know. I'm not really anyone special. I'm just a homeless girl who scribbles in a book for a living. My father and younger brother are on the other side of the country, my older brother hasn't been around for months, and my mom died a long time ago. Then here I am, just in the worst situation I could possibly be in. I can't even trust the people I thought I could trust. And I can't help but have the feeling that I'll be shot in the back any day now-"

"Woah woah! Calm down there! That kind of attitude ain't going to get you anywhere." Vino got ahead and stopped Joanna right there. He managed a smile as he spoke, "You're just one little worry wart, ah? You've got nothing to worry about!"

"You're kidding."

"I kid you not. You really don't have anything to worry about." He pivoted forward on his heel and continued walking. "The way I think of it is that you're just exaggerating. Making somethin' outta nothin', y'know? You should worry less, a lot less. Maybe then you'd be more happy. Either that, or just stop caring! All those happy people you hear about don't worry about anything, and don't have a care in the world!"

This certainly was something to think about, and his point was rather valid.

"I guess you are right. I do get a little too worried." Joanna stopped walking for a moment as they neared the entrance of another alley. "Hey, do you think I could do something while we're out?"

She had peeked Vino's interest now, and he looked over with a bit of a smile. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, just collecting something I hid away. I doubt I'll be able to go out again for a while, so I may as well get what I can. Here, let me show you what I mean."

Joanna walked into the alleyway a little ways before reaching an old refrigerator. By no means was it operational, and it was rusted and dirtied as if it had sat in that alley for years. She opened it up and reached inside, pulling away loose piece of wood at the bottom and taking out a wad of cash and a small jar of loose change.

"That's all I had to get." She said with a bit of a shrug, and stashed the cash in her pocket along with emptying the jar of change into her pockets as well.

Vino seemed rather surprised, "That's where you keep your money? How much do you have, anyways?"

"Yeah, no one looks in an old fridge for money. As for how much I have... I'd estimate around fifty-one dollars. Give or take."

"Wow, you can rent a pretty nice place with that kind of money."

"I guess so, but I really didn't have that in mind. I couldn't rent a place out right now, if I wanted to." She paused thoughtfully before adding, "Maybe we should stop by my place too. I might have some money lying around there as well."

"Seems good to me."

_Entry no. 179_

_1931 January 11th_

_3:17 pm?_

_Location: Walking back to Gandor hideout_

_Checked out home. Everything gone and missing. Neighbor came out, handed me letter from older brother Harris. 5 dollars within. Couldn't spot men. Going back now._

_Note: Get gloves. Get calendar. Fix watch. _

The letter from brother Harris has been contained within the journal. It is kept there as a place holder for the entry it relates to. It reads as follows.

_Dear Sis,_

_Sorry I haven't been able to write to you much. I've been really busy with work/trying to get work. I've found this well paying job at the docks, but I don't get picked all the time to work, so sometimes I go out looking for some other job. A lot of the times I don't end up with one for the day, but that's life y'know? Anyway, I figure I'd send you a little something so you know I'm alright. Five dollars is as much as I can spare, so I hope that's good enough to last you a week or two. I wanted to surprise you, but I figured I may as well tell you now. _

_I'm heading back home!I'm taking the train over, and I already got tickets to be down at 1 am January 16th._

_Your big brother,_

_Harris_

When Joanna returned, she found herself relocated to a different room than before. This one had no window, or a Mister Tick to keep watch. In fact, in the room were all the things she had back at her home on the fire escape. Her belongings consisted of a wooden trunk filled with miscellaneous things (one thing worth mentioning is the dollar in change inside), a rather small nightstand, and an old radio that could barely pick up a signal. Besides her belongings, there were basic furnishings in the room along with a nice red rug on the floor.

A logical guess was that there was a guard posted outside her door in case she tried another escape, and in all honesty, she currently had no plan set in mind to escape. Her talk with Vino had her seeing things a bit differently now, and Joanna had the perfect idea in mind to make all her problems go away. She set out all her money down on the bed and spent about fifteen minutes counting it all. By the end of it, she amounted that she had a grand total of fifty-seven dollars and thirty-eight cents to her name.

Satisfied, she gathered up her money and went to the door. Upon opening it, she found a large man looming over her. He didn't seem very pleased.

"And just where do you think your going?" He inquired in a disdainful tone.

Joanna looked up to the intimidating man, and attempted to put on the most unphased sort of look she could muster. "I'm going to see Luck." She said rather firmly.

The man quirked a brow, "What for?"

"N-none of your business." Gosh, she didn't know how people could keep face. She took a breath and straightened her posture, "I wish to speak to him right now."

"Tch. Alright then."

It was amazing what one could accomplish once putting their mind to it. Joanna couldn't help but be rather amazed with herself. She was actually able to get something done, even if it was something as simple as this. And to think, she could be sitting in her room doubting herself and the little plan she had in mind. So far, everything couldn't have been going any better.

Before long, she was in Luck's office.

It was rather nice, with dim lighting coming from the blinds and desk lamp. There were a few chairs in the back of the room away from Luck's desk. Neatly set behind him was a book case along with several filing cabinets. It seemed like a typical office. Luck sat there at his desk, watching as Joanna entered the room. It was quite clear by her mannerisms that she wasn't quite sure what to do now that she was here, and she awkwardly waltzed over to his desk, seeming rather distracted with the environment around her.

He perked a brow at her, "So, why are you here, dollface?"

Joanna blinked and looked to him. There was a brief moment of confused absence in her gaze before she recalled why she was there. "I," She got out her money and practically slammed it down on the desk, "Am going to buy my freedom!"

Luck's expression remained passive as he stared at Joanna, then followed down her arm to the money set down under her hand. He then smiled, almost chuckling to himself as he said, "And what makes you think I'd allow for that?" His eyes met hers, and his gaze was piercing.

"Uh..." She let her hand off the money as her posture slackened a bit with intimidation from his gaze, "I don't really know... I got the idea from a book I read once. It was about ancient Greece, and how slaves could buy their freedom back then."

"This ain't ancient Greece, this is present day Manhattan." He said calmly, "Besides, you don't even know how much I paid for you."

Joanna straightened a bit once more, "Whatever it is, I can pay it off." Her tone suggested otherwise.

Luck seemed doubtful at this proposition, and said nothing in response to this.

With a determined frown, she added haughtily, "I bet I can pay off double of what it was!"

"You really want to bet, dollface?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright then," Luck was smiling more out of amusement now, "I originally payed a hundred and twenty-five dollars for you. But since you've so generously offered to pay twice that much for your freedom, you'll be paying me two hundred and fifty."

If Joanna's heart didn't stop at the mention of the first price, it certainly did for the second. She was actually speechless for quite a while.

In all this time, the money just sat there on the desk, untouched.

"That... That isn't fair." She stammered

"Why yes it is. You made a bet that you could pay double, and so now you have to follow through."

Now with more of an angered frown, Joanna went to snatch up her money. "Well I guess you don't want this money then!"

"And I would guess that you'd like to stay here for the rest of your life."

Damn.

Nothing got past this guy.

Reluctantly, Joanna loosened her grip on the cash and pushed it, along with the change, over to him. "Fine. I've got fifty-seven dollars and thirty-eight cents to subtract from what I owe."

"You don't." Luck said. He separated a good portion of the money and put it in his own pocket as he spoke, "You've taken fifty dollars of my own money, remember? So in reality, you've only paid off seven dollars and thirty-eight cents."

Such news was more than disappointing, but these things couldn't be helped. That point couldn't be argued.

Luck could see the heart break in the girl's expression, and so as a means of encouragement, he added. "You shouldn't worry, though. You'll pay it all off eventually, I'm sure."

"Yeah... I guess you're right."

_Entry no. 180_

_1931 January 11th_

_3:49 pm?_

_Location: "New Home"_

_Tried to pay off debt. Can do it, but freedom ridiculously priced. Not sure how to get money. Didn't think that far ahead. Could always escape?_

_Note: Get gloves. Get calendar. Fix watch._

_Amount till Freedom: $242.62_

* * *

**A/N:** The chapters just keep getting longer! I've considered turning this more into a pairing sort of fic, but I'm not sure how you all would feel about it. Let me know what you all think in the review, and thank you to those who are keeping up to date with the story thus far!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Going to attempt at getting into the mind of someone other than my character, so bear with me here. Also, may decide on updating weekly than daily. It's been quite clear that I don't have the resources to do so. I do hope you enjoy this chapter, even if it is shorter than the last one.

* * *

**In the point of view of Luck Gandor.**

It had been a few days since Joanna made the proposition of buying back her freedom. Since then, she hadn't tried to escape when going out for walks. At least, that was what Luck was told. There had also been no news of the group of troublemakers, nor any more attempts of compromising the Gandors' operations from the particular group.

The lack of activity was rather unnerving, and the longer the wait in silence the more Luck wanted these people to be found. Not only had they dared to pick a fight with his mafia, but they killed a hand full of good men as well. Such a thing was unacceptable, and revenge had to be administered at its fullest.

With little help from the Martillo family, it seemed as though the Gandors had to solve this problem on their own. From what Luck understood, it wasn't a lack of cooperation that prevented the help, but simply a lack of information. They had no incidents with the troublesome group, and based upon that it seemed likely that they were specifically targeting the Gandors. But even so, the allied family was willing to do what it can for them, for such was the nature of their agreement.

Without any new developments as far as the troublemakers were concerned, Luck had to temporarily set his focus elsewhere, and what better subject for his observation than the newly purchased broker? She certainly had a lot of potential, seeing as how she was able to escape him once. Perhaps with the right training, she could act as a thief or a spy for him. Her talent for a quick escape would certainly allow for it.

Luck then checked the time. It was about 1:30 pm.

Maybe it'd be best if Joanna went on a walk with him for a change. From what he knew, his presence out in the open could attract those men he was after. It took little else for him to decide upon this, and he was soon knocking at her door.

It was rather amusing to see her look of surprise upon seeing him there at the door. Luck kept a small smile on his face as he spoke to her, "I'll be joining you on your walk this afternoon, if that's alright."

"Oh, okay then." She looked rather uneasy, but said nothing in opposition.

Joanna's default mood always seemed to be that of timidness or unease. Luck wasn't sure if it was his presence that caused this, or what is was, but that always looked to be like how she was constantly. Most of the women he had met were bubbly and extroverted, typically they were flappers. That was, until the depression hit. After all, they were the only ones going out to the casinos and speakeasies.

Yet here Joanna was, not really fitting the picture of what he had grown so used to in regards to women. Her hair was long, a bit beyond the shoulder blades, and held in a loose ponytail. She did not wear a dress or the popular cloche hat, but had rather loose fitting pants and a long sleeved shirt. She just seemed awfully plain, even if she didn't have much money to spend. No money at all, really. Every penny she would get went straight to Luck, and he had been keeping just as close a tally as she was.

They walked down the street together in a slightly discomforting silence. Though Luck was usually quiet himself, it seemed almost unnatural to be quiet in this situation, and it looked as though Joanna felt the same.

He then decided to break the ice with casual conversation, "So, Joanna." He looked to her with a familiar calm smile, "For how long have you been an information broker?"

Judging by her rather surprised expression, she didn't expect any conversation from him. "About six months now, I think. I'm not much of an information broker anyways."

"Is that right? I thought you were with the Daily Days?"

"I sort of am. In technical terms, I guess you could say that I'm an intern there. Err... _was_ an intern there."

Luck nodded in understanding, there was another silence between them. Before it had completely settled in, he spoke. "I have a job for you to do."

Joanna looked over to him with interest. "What kind of job?"

"An infiltration of sorts." He explained, "I've been working with the Martillo family, and they have a lead as to where those men who've been causing me trouble may be. It's a speakeasy in disputed territory. You won't be alone, though. The Martillo family will be sending one of their own to join you. All you have to do is pick them out, and try to get to know who they're answering to. If anything goes Haywire, you'll be protected."

"So I just find them, and find out who they're working for...?"

"Yes. That's all you have to do." Luck said with a slight nod. He took note of her appearance, and asked with a rather concerned tone, "Do you have anything else to wear? You'll need to fit in."

Joanna frowned as she looked down at her clothes. They were worn and stained, and probably haven't been washed recently. "No... I don't."

"Hmm," It seemed as though he'd have to buy her some new clothes then. His usually smile seemed a little more genuine as he answered, "I guess we'll just have to get you a new outfit then."

As expected, Joanna had protested to this, but Luck reassured her that there was no need to worry. He didn't mind spending the extra bit of money on her, and it'd be the least he could do for her, seeing that she was working on paying double her price for freedom.

Thankfully, Joanna wasn't at all too picky or indecisive with the dresses she had to choose from. He was rather surprised to see how nice she looked in the dress she picked out. It was a dress with a white top and long brownish gray skirt with matching jacket. That, a pair of dress shoes, and several miscellaneous articles of clothing were purchased for her. She was more than grateful, and even offered to pay the price off these too.

Before long they were back to head quarters, and Joanna would have the rest of the day to herself until tonight. This night would be the night of her job, and so Luck expected for there to be at least some level of success in the operation. If not, then he'd have to reconsider the amount of faith he had in the girl.

As they reached the door to Joanna's room, she paused and looked up to him. "Oh, before I forget. My brother is going to be coming to town two days from now, and I was wondering if I could have some off time?"

"As long as you don't plan on running off, I don't have a problem." Luck replied with a cool smile.

"I won't." She smiled a little as well, "And thank you again for the clothes."

**Back in the Point of View of Joanna J. Jones.**

_Entry no. 182_

_1931 January 14th_

_7:36 pm?_

_Location: "New Home"_

_Getting ready for first assignment. Clothes are more comfy than they look. Would wear more in future. Also found some spare change on walk earlier, along with few pennies in room. Will give to Luck later. Hopefully assignment will go well._

_Note: Get gloves. Get calendar. Fix watch. Don't disappoint!_

_Amount till Freedom: $242.49_

It had been a few hour since her walk with Luck, and already was it around time for her to go. She was in fact rather taken on how nice he was today. Actually, just how nice he sort of was in general. All this time she was under the assumption that mafia guys like him were generally mean and scary, and so she wasn't sure how to feel when she found this to be untrue.

Joanna smoothed out the wrinkles of the dress as she looked herself over once more. It was hard for her to believe that he'd even have the money to spare on her appearance, even if it was necessary for such an assignment.

Thinking back, she must have seemed more of an uncooperative jerk then he did to her. She lied and ran off upon their first meeting, and tried to escape a second time once in his possession. Then just recently, she practically lied in saying that she wouldn't run off when going to meet her brother. She did indeed plan for it, but the more she thought it over the more she didn't want to go.

Luck already went through a bit of trouble to get her once, and by running off with her brother she could be putting him in danger. Then if she were to get recaptured, she may not even keep the option of paying for her freedom.

Perhaps it would just be best to play things by ear until better options arose.

There wasn't more she could do, and so she slipped on her new shoes and put her journal and pen in her jacket pocket. With another quick glance over of herself, this time in a mirror, and a few small adjustments she was satisfied enough to step out of her room.

The same guard before was there to meet her, and as disdainfully as always had lead her through the halls and out the front door. There, waiting outside for her, was a young man in a spiffy green suit and fedora.

He looked over to her with a warm, causal smile. "Hey there, you must be the information broker, Joanna, right?"

"Yeah, I am. And you are...?"

"My name's Firo. I'll be helping you with your assignment." He opened the door to the car he was standing next to and motioned for her to enter, "So come on, we can talk more in the car."

_Entry no. 183_

_1931 January 14th_

_7:43 pm?_

_Location: Car (cannot identify intersection at the moment)_

_Almost at the speakeasy. Never been to one before. Firo says I'll be fine. He seems trustworthy enough, though he made it a point to mention that I won't be going anywhere with him around. I guess we'll just have to see about that._

_Note: Get gloves. Get calendar. Fix watch. Don't disappoint!_

_Amount till Freedom: $242.49_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Things might finally start to get interesting.

* * *

The speakeasy was all of what one would expect. A clash of personal good and moral bad with the sound of relaxed jazz music to help blend it all together. Smoke from cigarettes and cigars gave a slight haze to the air, and mixed heavily within the stench was alcohol. It was no wonder as to why the people in here seemed to be enjoying themselves. To Joanna, it was just astonishing that anyone could even afford a drink these days.

She felt out of place, and the initial feeling was that of alienation. Never before had she been in a speakeasy, and never before had she been in any sort of lively setting such as this. With a nervous frown, she slowly weaved through the crowds with Firo before finding a table to sit at. As she had moved along, she discreetly looked over a few of the men she passed by.

So far, none of them looked familiar.

"You doin' alright, Joanna?"

She looked over to Firo with a rather puzzled expression, "Y-yeah. Why do you ask?"

With a slight, casual shrug he replied. "You just looked a little upset is all. I'll take a guess and say that you've never been to a place like this before?"

Joanna nodded her head, "You're right, I haven't."

"Huh," He then smiled a little, "So I guess you don't drink then?"

"Not really." She shifted in her seat a little, "Though I guess I'll have to drink something, to blend in and all."

It was also to be noted that staying in one spot was never to good if she were looking for these people. Joanna remembered a bit of her previous training, more as words of advice, from Nicholas. (He might have been the biggest jerk in history, but he did have some valuable knowledge.) He always told her that it was better to blend with the crowd than to observe it, like how a sponge gets more water in the puddle than out of it. If she were ever to get the littlest of information, she may as well dip into that puddle.

She was brought out of her thoughts when a glass of brownish liquid and ice was set down in front of her. With quiet curiosity, she lifted up the glass and her gaze wandered over to Firo.

"Give it a try." Was all he said.

After a brief pause, Joanna then brought the glass to her lips and took a draft of the liquid. She somewhat regretted the fact that she didn't start off with a sip. The liquid burned some, and it was a wonder to her why people would even drink this stuff. Regardless, she feigned a smile and set down the glass.

"It's pretty good." She lied. It seemed like the kind of drink that one wouldn't like at first, but would grow to enjoy it over time.

At least she wasn't feeling the effects of the alcohol just yet.

"I'm going to take a look around," She said, standing from the table, "If I find out anything, I'll let you know."

Firo nodded, "Alright, but I'll be keeping my eye on you."

It was yet another reminder that she wouldn't be leaving this world of crime on her own terms. Just the idea of it all seemed farther and farther away, but Joanna tried to remain hopeful. The least she could do was buy her freedom.

Joanna weaved around the crowds, and took occasional sips from the glass of alcohol in her hands as she did. She kept her ears sharp as she walked along, and only focused in on things that were of some use to her.

There was one conversation that she couldn't ignore.

"I heard from a guy that some casino got hit the other day."

She slowed her pace, and casually drifted into the ring of conversationalists gossiping about the above statement.

"Oh, I heard that too." Another said, "Heard it was the Gandors' place, right?"

Joanna along with a few others nodded.

"Yeah. It had to have been them alright." The original instigator of the conversation said, nodding his head in conformation.

Joanna looked over to him, and he seemed strikingly similar to one of the men she saw in the alley. One of the men who had hit the casino.

The man sported a rather nice looking black overcoat and a clean white dress shirt underneath. His hair was a rich brown, and his eyes were an earthy green. He was pleasing enough to the eye, but his behavior threw off some of his likeability.

"You know," He started, pausing for an effect that caused the listeners, Joanna included, to lean it a little, "I think I know who did it."

Now everyone in the circle was giving him attention, and they all huddled up a little closer to hear. It was as if this news was a delicate secret, and they were all the privileged ones to hear it.

"Do tell, do tell!" One of them said in a hushed, yet excited voice.

"Word is, a new mob's in town." He then lowered his voice as he continued, "But no one knows if those guys are a bunch of nobodies or the real deal. If you ask me, I think they're the latter."

There were looks of surprise, and then chattering amongst the friends and neighbors in the ring. There was a heavy air of disbelief in their tones, but the more they discussed the more they seemed to believe it.

Then there was Joanna, finishing the last bit of her drink as she thought it over. If this guy really was one of that group, then they could be a bunch of nobodies trying to make a name for themselves. But, what if they weren't? What if they were actually _the real deal_? What reason could anyone possibly have for picking on the Gandors?

The only way to know for certain was to ask, and so Joanna tried her best to make a casual and sociable approach to the man.

"Wow, you... you really seem to know a lot about all the crime going on around here." She gave the smallest of smiles, hoping that was enough to seem harmless and ignorant to the subject.

"I guess you can say that," The man eyed her for a moment, a slight amount of suspicion in his gaze, "It's one of the more interesting things to talk about, if you ask me."

"Y-yeah."

Good lord, was he on to her already? She had to think up something fast.

"Listening to you talk about it sure beats reading the paper." It came out suddenly, and Joanna gave an uneasy glance followed by another smile to ease her own discomfort.

Yet surprisingly, the comment had gone over well with the other. She might have even added a little air to the now more inflated ego of his.

"Heh, I bet it does. I'm quite good at getting word around about things."

"Y-yeah. You really are."

"I'm really starting to like you." The man said, giving her a smile, "My name's Oliver Falconi, what's yours?"

"Uh my name is... Julie. Yeah, Julie Blake." Joanna blurted out rather nervously, "My friends just call me, Jules."

"Well, Jules, would you mind if I got you another drink?" He asked, motioning to the empty glass in her hand.

"Oh, that would be great. Thanks."

Joanna followed him over to the bar, where Oliver got two drinks for them. If she heard correctly, he had gotten some Bourbon. She thanked him a second time as he handed her the drink, and she took a sip. This was a bit stronger in taste than whatever Firo gave her earlier. At least it burned a little less.

"So, Oliver..." She started, setting the glass on the counter as she looked to him, "What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing much." He stated modestly, "Just odd jobs is all."

"What kind of odd jobs?" Joanna tried to remain as casual as possible, but she couldn't help but press in her question a little.

"Just stuff that people don't normally do." Oliver frowned a little, "I'm not really allowed to talk about it."

"And why's that?"

There was no answer, and instead, a rather annoyed side glance from Oliver.

"You ask too many questions. How about this, _it's none of your damn business._" His words were easily described as hostile.

The shift in behavior made Joanna more than uneasy, "A-alright... Sorry for asking then. If you'll, excuse me..."

She then hurried back over to Firo, who was sitting in the same table from earlier.

"Did you find out anything?"

"I think so."

_Entry no. 184_

_1931 January 14th_

_8:57 pm?_

_Location: Speakeasy_

_Met a man named Oliver Falconi. Same guy from alley. Same guy bothering Gandors. Couldn't get much out of him. Really hostile when asked. Said he liked me earlier, not sure about that now. Going to head back to the Gandors later. This Bourbon stuff is pretty good._

_Note: Try to win that drinking game they're playing at the other table. Seems easy._

_Amount till Freedom: $242.49_

* * *

**A/N:** I might start naming the chapters, and perhaps go with the Luck/OC pairing that's been suggested to me. Please leave a review if you liked(or didn't like) this chapter. It helps get me motivated to write the next chapter. Suggestions and criticisms are also welcome. Again, I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
